


Dear Dean,

by Ordered_Chaos



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel/Dean Winchester Drabble(s), Charlie Bradbury Lives, Charlie Lives, Charlie Ships It, Fluff, Happy Ending, Light Angst, Love, M/M, Matchmaker Charlie, Men of Letters Bunker, Requited Love, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sam Ships It, Schmoop, mildly AU, written for DestielDrabblesDaily's 30k Fanfic Contest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-12 16:03:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7940656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ordered_Chaos/pseuds/Ordered_Chaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first, Dean thought he must’ve downloaded a virus. A blank popup filled his screen, and a message wrote itself in the corner:<br/>“Dear Dean, Just kiss him already.”</p><p>OR </p><p>When Charlie took a stand against unresolved sexual tension.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dear Dean,

**Author's Note:**

> Written for DestielDrabblesDaily's 30k Fanfic Contest on tumblr. If you haven't personally experienced her awesomeness, find her [here](http://destieldrabblesdaily.tumblr.com). Congrats to everyone who won!
> 
> This fic is mildly AU. Dean, Sam, Cas, and Charlie are all living in the bunker together. Dean and Sam are hunting, and Cas has his powers.

At first, Dean thought he must’ve downloaded a virus. He’d just clicked on a really promising link called ‘Busty Asian Beauties Epic Compilation 3,’ (the first two had been awesome) when his computer completely froze. A blank popup filled the screen, and a message wrote itself in the corner:

“Dear Dean, Just kiss him already.”

“Sam!” he complained, throwing his head back. On the other bed in their crappy motel room, Sam looked up from his laptop.

“What?” he asked defensively.

“What’d you do to my computer?”

“What are you talking about?”

Dean brandished his laptop at his brother.

Sam recoiled. “Ah! Dean! I don’t want to see that!”

Dean glanced at the screen. The window had disappeared, and the Asian Beauties were being quite Epic in full screen.

“Oh,” he said, sitting back against the headboard. “This weird popup popped up.”

“That’s what popups do, Dean. You’re on a porn site.”

“Shut up.”

They went back to their quiet activities. The message didn’t return.

\---

It happened again. Dean was actually researching this time, about to click on the attachment Charlie had sent him that would hopefully help them track the empousa they were hunting. Suddenly his screen went white, and the words typed themselves in the corner.

“Dear Dean, Just kiss him already.”

He stared at the message, and after a moment it disappeared. Sam was in the shower. Dean grabbed both computers, and when Sam came out in his shorts, his hair wet and a towel draped around his shoulders, Dean was searching for anything that might indicate that Sam had tampered with his laptop.

“What are you doing?” Sam demanded. He tried to grab it away, but Dean held on.

“That popup came up again,” Dean muttered. “What’d you do?”

“Nothing! Give me my computer!” He snatched it back. “What the hell is it, anyway? More porn?”

“No,” Dean said, shutting his own laptop and folding his arms. “Just a white screen. With my name.”

“Your name?” Sam sat down on his bed, running the towel through his hair and furrowing his forehead in confusion. “Could be malware. Does it tell you to do anything?”

“No.”  
\---

Thanks to Charlie’s algorithm (and some epic badassness on Dean’s part, if he did say so himself), they wrapped up the case by the next day, and made it back to the bunker by nightfall. Dean gave himself a half hour of one-on-one time with his memory foam before dragging himself to the kitchen to make dinner. Cas was hanging out on the couch, his computer on his lap.

“How’s it going, Cas?” Dean asked as he pulled open the fridge. He always made burgers. Maybe he should try branching out…

“Going where?” the angel asked, looking up at him and squinting.

“Never mind,” Dean muttered. The ingredients for his homemade burgers were right there, on the top shelf where he could easily find them. Scrounging up what he needed for anything else would be too much effort. He pulled out the meat and tossed it onto the counter.

Cas was frowning at his computer now. “Dean?” he asked after a moment.

“Hmm?”

“Has your computer been acting strangely?”

“Strangely how?” he asked, dumping the ground beef into his large red mixing bowl.

“It keeps sending me messages. But then they disappear.”

“That’s weird,” Dean said casually.

Charlie came swaggering into the kitchen, wrinkling her nose. “Burgers again, Dean?”

“You could cook for yourself,” he retorted. “Freeloader.”

“Cooking something different would be good for you,” she said, opening the fridge. “Broaden your mind. That kinda thing.”

“Hey, Obi-Wan, no snacking before dinner,” Dean said.

“That’s not from Star Wars,” Charlie sniffed, closing the fridge and strutting to the couch to join Cas. “Good try.”

Dean rolled his eyes, mixing up the rest of the ingredients.

“Hello, Charlie,” Cas said vaguely as she flopped onto the cushion beside him.

“Hey, Cas.”

“My computer is acting strange.”

She sat up again, interested. “What’s it doing?”

“Giving me messages with strange instructions.”

“Oh? What’s it say?” She was grinning, and Dean wondered why, deftly kneading the soon-to-be delicious mixture before him.

“That I should kiss someone.”

Dean choked, and it was only by extreme luck that the gob of spit landed on his sleeve and not in the food. Charlie shot him a smile that he could only describe as…evil.  
\---

He cornered her after dinner.

“What did you do to our computers?” Dean demanded.

Charlie laughed, holding her hands up defensively. “Don’t blame me. This is the cosmic push you two need.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He was glaring at her, but Charlie didn’t seem the least bit bothered.

“Come on, Dean!” she said. “This pining is so frustrating! Take your computer’s advice. It knows what you like.” She winked and walked away before Dean could gag properly.  
\---

Now it was bothering him. Just how obvious was it? This strange thing he felt around Cas. He knew he stared too long whenever they made eye contact. He was painfully aware of every brief touch: brushing his fingers as he passed him the salt; shoulders bumping together as they sat on the couch; the warmth of his trenchcoat even after he’d taken it off. But was it so clear to the others? Cas had never said anything. Of course Charlie knew. She had to be annoying like that. Did Sam?

He shook his head. Not his problem. He and Cas were good. They were in a good place now, even after everything. He didn’t want to mess that up.  
\---

The message started appearing more and more. Dean couldn’t go five-minutes without the popup rearing its infuriating head eight times. There was never a button to close it. Always the same message: “Dear Dean, Just kiss him already.”

He started borrowing Sam’s computer just to escape the constant annoyance, but to his horror, a popup began appearing there, too.

“Dear Sam, tell your tragically repressed brother to go kiss his angel or I’ll keep annoying you with these messages until the end of time.” No way Sam wasn’t going to notice that.

“Take it off Sam’s computer,” Dean growled at Charlie’s door. She’d said she was changing, so he held back from barging in. He was glad he’d had the sense to knock first.

“You can’t escape it,” she said way too happily. “It’ll stop if you go do it, Dean.”

“No way,” he hissed. “Take it off Sam’s computer. You can leave it on mine, I don’t care.”

“You’re gonna have to do something for me,” she said, opening her door and folding her arms across her t-shirt.

“What do you want?” he asked, almost desperately. Almost.

Charlie frowned, narrowing her eyes as she schemed. “Show Cas the message on your computer, and I’ll delete the code from Sam’s.”

Dean opened and closed his mouth several times. Finally, he croaked, “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I’m evil and I want you to be happy,” she said. “Now go kiss your angel.”  
\---

An hour later, Dean was staring blankly at his computer screen. He was _not_ thinking about Sam seeing the message. He was _not_ thinking about Charlie’s impossible instructions. He _definitely_ wasn’t thinking about Cas, sitting at the other end of the table, probably frowning like that because the popup had just taken over his screen again.

“Dear Dean, Just kiss him already.”

He should have known that Charlie coming to live with them would be bad for his health.

“Dean?” Cas said. “I think I found a case.”

“Really?” he asked, looking up as the popup disappeared for the third time that minute. “Where?”

“Not far. Come look at this article.”

He didn’t want to get up. “Dear Dean, Just kiss him already.”

Cas squinted at him, in that stupid, adorable way of his. Adorable? He meant to think _angelic_. Dean stood up, grumbling. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his screen flash up the words again: “Dear Dean, Just kiss him already.”

He stood behind Cas’s shoulder, leaning forward to see the text on his screen. It looked like a fairly standard haunting: multiple victims, all in the same location—

The screen turned white, and words wrote themselves onto the screen.

“Dear Cas, Go get him, Champ.”

“You’ve been getting similar messages,” Cas said softly. Dean was quiet as the screen turned innocently back to the news article. “I understand Charlie is behind them.”

“Look, man, they don’t mean anything,” Dean said. “She’s pulling a prank. She’ll get rid of them if we just wait it out.”

“I don’t want to wait it out,” Cas said.

“Huh?” Dean asked eloquently.

The screen showed the words, “Dear Cas, You deserve to be happy. So does he.”

Dean swallowed and tore his eyes away before the message disappeared.

Cas’s eyes were on the screen, but when he looked up, he was staring at Dean with a stubbornness Dean had seen too often to underestimate.

“I want to try,” Cas said boldly. “What do you want, Dean?”

“I— I—” What did he want? He had no freaking clue. They’d been dancing around each other for years now. Closer and farther and every time it looked like Cas was gone forever, he’d managed to come back home. And every time he’d returned, Dean had felt like he’d just taken his first breath in years. Like the world was safe again. Like he’d just managed to climb out of his own grave all over again. “I don’t know,” he whispered, his eyes haunted.

Cas stood up, standing very close, yet not threatening at all. Because this was Cas. He knew he’d be safe with Cas.

“Charlie says this is never easy,” the angel mused. “Especially after things have gone unspoken for so long.”

“Come on man, don’t bring Charlie into this,” Dean groaned, his mouth very dry. “She’s caused enough problems.”

“Not yet,” Cas said. His eyes dropped to Dean’s lips, then back up. “Dean?” he said softly.

There was more in that one word than he could ever have said. Their relationship had never relied on words. Hell, half the time Dean felt like the words that came out of his mouth weren’t what he wanted at all, and screwed things up even worse. He couldn’t just confess everything he’d ever thought, and felt, and marveled at about Cas. Words would never be right. Would never be enough.

“Dear Dean, Just kiss him already.”

He pulled Cas into a hug. It wasn’t hard, since they were standing so close together, and it had the added bonus of releasing him from that stubborn blue glare. He inhaled deeply, feeling the angel’s dark hair tickle his ear. Movement on the screen caught his eye, and he read the new message:

“Dear Dean, Kiss him or I'll kill you, I swear to Goewfiwef. What Charlie means is you’ll be a total tool if you don’t kiss him now, man. Just d—”

Dean shut his eyes. Cas was breathing softly in his arms, holding him like he’d be content to stand this way forever. He never wanted to let go.

And yet….

Dean pulled back from the hug. He opened his eyes and focused on Cas’s face, so close to his that it was almost blurry. He smiled. Cas put his hand gently against Dean’s cheek. The same hand that had fought at his side, healed him over and over, pulled him out of Hell.

Dean put his own hand over it.

Cas’s lips were soft beneath his. With his eyes closed, Dean missed the computer’s final message:

“Dear Dean, freaking FINALLY.”


End file.
